Hope Beyond Measure
by Dagmaris
Summary: Thorin looks to the boy and finds eyes far too old for his young face. "Why would you bring him here, Gandalf The Grey?" He is the nephew of a dear friend and a great Queen and this Mountain is the only place I entrust with his safety. "He is not even a dwarf!" No, he's a hobbit. A Frodo Baggins hobbit to be exact.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The date was November 1, T.A. 2941, nearing one hundred and seventy-one years since Smaug the Terrible, the last great fire drake, descended on the great dwarven kingdom of Erebor. The dwarrows attracted the dragon's covetous eye with their gold hoard that could not be rivaled by any kingdom on Middle Earth, dwarven or otherwise.

The beast flew in from the North with one purpose and one purpose only; to sit himself on the gold hoard and become King Under the Mountain forevermore.

The trees cracked and the winds blew, and amidst it all only one, Thorin son of Thrain, had the sense to scream an eloquent warning of, "Dragon!", before the sky rained fire.

The dragon turned his wrath to the city of Men, Esgaroth, that sat at the southern face of Erebor. His roar shook the ground and there was no shelter from his burning breath. The dwarrows of Erebor could only look on in horror as their allies burned and the dragon powered through the smoke and ash sky.

Thrain, Crown Prince of Erebor and son of King Thror, rallied his dwarven comrades and braced the front gate. For an hour, the only sounds were the screams of Men and the taunting of a fire drake. Then, the Mountain shook and the dragon burst through the gate of iron and steel.

The dwarrows of Erebor fought valiantly, but it was to no avail. The dragon's hide could not be pierced by even the strongest blade or spear. His great rumbling laugh was the only reward for their useless attempts to kill him. The Line of Durin was on the verge of retreating in order to salvage what was left of their people when a great horn sounded from Dale.

The dragon, intrigued by the resilience of Men, slithered his way from the Mountain he was so near overtaking with a rumble that could only be described as delighted. He took to the sky and descended once more on Esgaroth. Searching for the horn blower, he was soon rewarded with a most amusing sight.

Girion, Lord of Dale, had taken to the highest post of Esgaroth. The horn was nowhere in sight, but the large bow aimed at the quickly approaching dragon was rather hard to miss. The bow had been readied with a black arrow, forged by Thror himself, and was one of four of its like. Smaug gave a hearty chuckle followed by another storm of fire on the once great city.

"Do you really think you can kill me, _bowman?,"_ the fire drake growled lowly with a great display of his teeth of swords. Girion did not rise to his mocking growls and instead fired his first shot. The black arrow cut through fire and ash and _ping'd_ against the impenetrable scales of the dragon's neck. Smaug smiled a terrible smile as the flames began building in his breast. He let loose a mighty breath and flew lowly over the city, a river of fire following behind. Girion had readied the second arrow when Smaug circled back round to the post. He fired and the second arrow did not much better than the first. As he readied the third arrow, Girion was nearly overwhelmed by the mass of the fire drake. No army of Men, elves, or dwarrows could have stood against this beast and lived to tell the tale. It was with this thought that Girion fired the third arrow.

The arrow soared in the night sky and there was the sound of wrenching metal as it hit the flesh just beneath the right wing of Smaug the Terrible. The dragon paused his chaos for a moment in confusion before flying higher than he had before. For a moment, Girion thought he had failed once again, but as he watched the third arrow fall to the streets of flame, something caught his eye. There, falling right next to the arrow, was a shimmer. It caught the firelight slightly and shone, just for a moment, a burning red. For Girion, it was a beacon.

"A scale," he said lowly, wary of exclamation that would alert the hidden dragon, "A scale has fallen from the dragon hide."

A moment later, Smaug appeared from the dark sky once more. The heat bubbling in his chest illuminated the smoke as the dragon opened his wings and prepared to end this city of Men and return to his Mountain.

Girion looked beneath the right wing and spotted a dark void where a dragon scale should have been. He turned his bow to the dragon, readied his final arrow, and fired. Smaug the Terrible fell with the flames of his last breath on his tongue.

The morning sun rose, but there was no celebration to be had. The devastation and death had exceeded the count of grief and the night of Smaug the Terrible's demise would never be talked of fondly by any race of Middle Earth.

Though Thror had slowly been descending into madness, the attack on Erebor and the sight of his people dying had shaken him from his haze. Esgaroth was all but completely destroyed and, as a payment to Girion the Dragon Slayer, was rebuilt with a fourteenth share of Erebor's gold hoard. Erebor, too, had to be repaired and Thror was more than generous with the funds required to do so. No help came from the elves of Mirkwood and their King Thranduil, damaging relations even to this day.

The dwarf kingdom of Erebor had taken a terrible blow and their losses could not all be so easily replaced, but with Thror being the great ruler he once was, both Men and dwarrows began to prosper once again.

It was with these thoughts in mind that an old man with grey hood and a large walking stick made his way to the front gates of Erebor. It had been nearly two hundred years since he had set eyes on this great kingdom and even then it had not measured to the sight before him.

The gates gleamed and shined and warm golden light spilled across the desolate land in front of the Mountain. The ever loyal crows cawed and the vigilant guards stood still as the stone they were protecting. Caravans were being led, even in the dark of night, in and out of the great mountain and the faint sound of thousands of dwarrows eating dinner could be heard from within the walls.

Gandalf the Grey remained in the shadows as he soaked in the majesty that was now Erebor. The last time he was here, King Thror had been falling to gold sickness and there was nothing Gandalf could do to help. He remembers the Crown Prince and young Thorin Thrainson being rather put out the grey wizard and, if he recalls correctly, they did not part of the best of terms. Gandalf could only hope that time would have improved their relations seeing as the dwarrows of Erebor were his last hope.

Gandalf was wary of just walking in the front door because he would be asked to state his business and his business was too delicate to state to just any dwarf that crossed his path. Gandalf huffed at himself. He was a wizard for Eru's sake! When had he let a few stubborn dwarrows stand in the way of his tasks?

"You are Gandalf the Grey and you must get a hold of yourself!," he whispered to himself as if he were berating a Took of the Shire. "You have been given this task by a very dear friend and you mustn't stop now." A yawn punctuated his words at just the right moment. Looking up from his place in Gandalf's arm, the fauntling yawned once more and hazy blue eyes blinked sluggishly at the wizard. Gandalf's eyes softened and his resolve hardened.

"You just wait, my lad. Our journey is almost over and you are closer than you have ever been to the hospitality of dwarrows. You need not harbor fear within these walls, for no harm shall come to you here, Frodo Baggins." With these words left to be heard by the quiet of night and a hobbit child's ears, Gandalf began his purposeful stride up to the gates of Erebor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Thorin son of Thrain was happy. Surrounded by the boisterous noise of his friends and family while the ale seemed endless, how could he not be? This was his paradise and he only ever realized that right before it was nearly taken from him.

Smaug, as horrible as any memory of him is, made him realize just how lucky he is to be an heir in the Line of Durin. Though the responsibilities are not always what most would call entertaining (perhaps a lesson on how to better relations with elves from Balin, for example), Thorin found happiness in each task because it meant he was alive and the Line of Durin, of his Grandfather, was still strong.

The road to recovering Erebor had been long and difficult. The first job had been to build more tombs for those they lost to dragon fire. Thorin's mother, Lis, had been among the dead. She had died protecting her children and Thorin made sure to think of her at some point everyday, be it her smile or her hair or her voice. Thrain had been devastated by his wife's death, but had stayed strong for his children and his people.

After the grief had become bearable (though it did not lessen), Erebor began to rebuild to her full glory. The gates had been expanded and replaced and caravan routes for the Men of Esgaroth had been carved. Once the kingdom and the city were prosperous once again, news of the Mad King's redemption spread all over. Thror's return was perhaps the greatest result to come from dragon fire. He ruled for another hundred years before he relinquished his throne to his son with well wishes and not a hint of madness in sight. It was a bright memory in a sea of dark ones.

To his left, Gloin son of Groin began his usual spout about the beauty of his wife.

"Oh Kimli, how your hair shines like mithril and your eyes sparkle like emeralds. Your beauty surpasses the stones of starlight and your laugh is sweeter than the tinkling of spilled gold. How could I ever-", he was interrupted when brother poured ale into his ear horn and sprayed it into Gloin's besotted face. The red dwarf spluttered and choked on the ale and his eyes were narrowed to slits. Oin erupted into raucous laughter and was followed by the rest of the dwarrows at the table.

"Oi, you deaf old bat. I ought to ring that horn of yours around your neck and pull the hairs from your nose," Gloin growled as he patted his face dry. Oin simply pretended not to hear him and continued to laugh at his brother's rather impressive impression of a drowned rat.

Thorin laughed along with his cousins' antics and sipped his own ale. They did not have these meals every night, but it was a near thing. The dwarrows of Erebor looked for any reason to celebrate and when they did, the noise from the halls could be heard outside the gate.

Tonight's celebration was because of caravans arriving from the Blue Mountains safely and without incident. Many families had been reunited, including his sister Dis and her husband. He had been a part of the escort for the Blue Mountains and had been away for nearly a year and half. Their reunion had been a happy one. Dis, stoic and stubborn Dis, had run into the arms of her husband as if she were a young child again. Nili had swung her around with a booming laugh and a pepper of kisses to her face. Many dwarrows looked scandalized at such displays of affection, but before Thorin could send his infamous glare their way, Fili and Kili had nearly tackled their father to the ground.

The young princes were barely taller than their father's hip, but they scaled him like a rock face. The laughter of Nili and Dis could be heard throughout the Mountain and Thorin could not stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

"Well where's my hug Nili? I thought we were closer than that," a teasing voice from behind Thorin said. Thorin groaned.

"Frerin, leave the poor man alone and let him reunite with his family in peace," Thorin said to his grinning golden haired brother. He probably should have expected the answer he got in return.

"You know I can't do that Thorin. I have missed my dear brother-in-law far too much," he said while proceeding to launch himself at the oblivious family before Thorin could catch him. Poor Nili fell to the ground under the weight of Dis, Fili, Kili, and Frerin, and they all fell to the ground in a heap. Thorin winced.

"Frerin, if you don't get you fat hairy arse off of my family, I am going to cut the bollocks off of you, you disgrace of a bearded dwarf!", Dis screamed at her brother, throwing him off with great strength. Nili tried in vain to cover his young sons ears. Frerin just laughed and began helping them all to their feet. He was rewarded by a steel toed boot to the foot by Dis.

"I thought I heard my lovely Dis's voice," Thrain said, emerging from the throne room and into the main hall. He would have looked intimidating in the traditional royal attire were it not for the goofy grin only reserved for his family on his face. He clapped Nili on the shoulder and butted their heads together before sweeping his grandchildren off the ground and into the air, much to their delight. Thorin finally made his way over to his family. He greeted Nili by tapping his forehead with the younger dwarf's, ruffling his nephew's hair, and flicking Frerin in the ear.

"Well, I think this calls for a feast! What better way to celebrate my son-in-law's long awaited homecoming?" Thrain declared with a laugh as he tossed Kili once more and made his way to the dining halls with a dwarfling under each arm. Dis rolled her eyes, but looked pleased from her place in her husband's arms. It pleased Thorin to see her happy and not for the first time did he crave it.

Thorin had never found the time to marry. After the dragon attack, the duty to his people came first and after Dis had heirs, there was no need to marry to secure the line. Thorin had always wanted to marry for love like his parents, and now his sister, had, but he was starting to believe he would never get the chance.

He did not let these thoughts turn his good mood somber, though, and shook out of them just in time to catch the tail end of a song that a dwarf with a funny hat from the Blue Mountains had engaged everyone in. When the song was over, the every dwarf in the hall cheered and gulped down the last of their ale, resulting in another cheer. Thorin looked upon the scene with fondness.

Thrain sat at the head of the table, looking at his people with great mirth. This is what Thror had always intended for his people and Thorin knew Thrain was beyond proud to see dwarrow full of such cheer. Thorin was quite proud himself.

Thorin was so focused on the merriment around him that he did not notice a figure creeping from the shadows of the dining hall. The figure, Nori, Spymaster of Erebor, made his way without detection to the king's chair. Thrain did not startle when there was suddenly a presence at his ear, but his smile gave way to a frown. Thorin, having stopped watching his father, did not notice.

"Your Majesty, there seems to be a visitor asking to see you…and only you. He stands in the shadows of the gates, hooded and cloaked, holding a package and claiming to be a wizard." The Spymaster's mouth did not even appear to be moving as he relayed the information. It did not matter. Thrain could hear everything.

"A wizard you say? Did he just so happen to call himself Gandalf the Grey?," the king asked tersely. The Spymaster's only answer was a quirk of his lips. Thrain's jaw clenched.

"Did he say what he wanted with me?," Thrain asked lowly. The Spymaster made a noise that told Thrain all he needed to know.

"Do not let him in. I will meet him at the gate and speak to him there. I do not trust him in my Mountain just yet." Nori nodded and blended back into the shadows from which he came. Thrain stood and clanged on his glass.

"Dwarrow of Erebor and visitors of the Blue Mountains, I would like to propose a toast of good will to our visitors and the visitors for years to come. May the ale never cease and Erebor never fall!," Thrain exclaimed with feigned gusto as he downed his tankard. The dwarrow in the hall cheered and did the same. Thorin, confused at his father's obvious intent to leave the festivities, drank his and began to walk towards the king of Erebor.

"Adad, what is wrong?," Thorin asked at the look of his father's obvious irritaion. Thrain just huffed and made a motion for Thorin to follow him.

"That blasted wizard has returned! As if he didn't cause enough problems with your grandfather when he was ill, giving us hope and then taking it away. Perhaps I should be more clear when I bid him good riddance this time!," Thrain ranted as he stormed towards the front gates. Thorin had little trouble matching his strides.

"The wizard? As in Gandalf the Grey?," Thorin asked bewildered.

"Aye, my boy. That's the one."

Thrain signaled for the guards to open the gates and stood as the crisp smell of night and cold air filled the front hall.

There, standing as if he were simply gazing at the stars on a warm summer night instead of about to converse with the great king of Erebor, stood Gandalf the Grey smoking a pipe. He was completely unchanged since Thorin last saw him and he blew a perfect ship of smoke before smiling as if he were greeting friends. Cradled awkwardly in his arms was a bundle of…something.

"Ah, Thrain son Thror, King Under the Mountain! How wonderful it is to see you in such good health. I say, I was perhaps wondering if you would be interested in sharing in an adventure?"

 **AN: So if it's not obvious already, this is my first story. The idea for it has been jumping through my brain for a while now (plot bunny reference) and I have finally worked up the nerve to write it. I don't think many people will be able to guess where exactly this story is going at this point, but it will become somewhat clear soon. I don't think its something anyone has done before. Review if you want, but it will not affect the speed at which I update. Enjoy!**

 **Dagmaris**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So there were a few things I wanted to explain a bit better before this next chapter. I could still possibly explain them in the story, but I feel it would be easier reading if I just did it now. There's going to be enough guesswork in this story without me adding to it (:**

 **Fili and Kili: I hope I made it clear enough in the last chapter that they are children, but if I didn't, then here it is: They are children. Nili was from the Blue Mountains and he and Dis did not meet until about 130 years after the dragon, therefore Fili and Kili were not born during the time I imagine they were born in the books**

 **The Company: I plan to have the Company in this story as much as the characters allow (they really do write themselves!)**

 **OOC Thorin: Thorin may seem a bit OOC, but remember he has not faced the hardships he had faced by the time the original story rolled around. I will try to stay true to his character as much as possible while making it believable enough for this AU.**

 **Thilbo: Nuff said.**

 **And a huge thanks to** _ **kshrimp**_ **for reviewing! I'm glad you couldn't tell it was my first story and I hope that it continues to be interesting. There's a lot of plot I have to unravel before we get to the good stuff, so I hope everyone can hang in there (:**

 **That was a lot, but I hope it explained some things. I will not write this long of an AN for the rest of the story…I think (; Enjoy!**

 **Dagmaris**

Chapter 3

While Gandalf the Grey was suffering the wrath of a dwarf king at the gates of Erebor, another creature in Middle Earth was suffering just about the same fate.

"Peregrin Took, if I catch you with your hand in the sweetie jar one more time, I just might chop it off! And you know that Sting and I are very well capable!," Bella Baggins hissed at her sneakiest, and quite possibly cutest, cousin. Bella would like to say she was not affected by the big hobbit-y eyes that looked up at her or the quivering bottom lip, but for just a moment he reminded her of Frodo. ' _No,'_ she thought to herself, " _do not be bringing up that thought before you've even had morning tea!"_

"My Lady, please don't cut off my arm. I promise not to take the sweeties anymore, no matter how delicious they smell or how hungry I am or-", Bella silenced him by stuffing a cookie in his never ceasing mouth.

"Oh Pippin, of course I'm not chopping off your arm. Perhaps I will if you don't stop calling me 'My Lady' but…I, too, remember the call of my mother's blueberry biscuits when I was fauntling. Practically irresistible! But, now I also understand not wanting to have your freshly baked sweeties pillaged by tiny greedy fingers! Now off you get, and I best not catch you in kitchen again, fool of a Took," Bella shooed him off with bright eyes and a wide smile. Though she fussed, Bella not so secretly loved having faunts in her kitchen. She had never had any of her own, never had time, but her stories and her status had drawn quite the crowd of faunts, and even tweens, if her tale was scary enough.

"Goodbye My La-Mistress Bella! Thank you for the cookie!," Bella rolled her eyes, but waved after the young hobbit. Standing in her doorway to see Pippin safely home, Bella took this time to survey the land before her.

Gone were the rolling green fields and the smoke permeating the air was not from the chimneys of hobbit holes. Gone were the signs of cheer and good health. In its place was death. The world looked faded where it has once shone bright. Even the sun did not shine bright here. Everything was grey.

It had been the Fell Winter that had done it. One winter and Bella's, nay the hobbits', lives had been changed forever.

Bella remembers the Brandywine and the wolves, oh the wolves. They had come from the woods and crossed the river with a loping confidence that somehow made them seem smug. Bella remembers a hobbit near knocking down the door of Old Took while she and her family were over visiting for dinner. Bella had barely been a tween.

"Sir, the wolves! They are crossing the river! The river has frozen! We are under attack," the poor hobbit had wheezed at the feet of her grandfather. He was pale as cow's milk and his eyes were wide and glassy with fear. To this day, Bella did not know his name and she had not seen him since. It was likely he had died that year.

"Wolves? Crossing the Brandywine?," Old Took muttered. Then, he leaned down next to the boy, grabbed his shoulders, and made him focus. "Lad, how far? How far away are they? Answer me, boy!"

Bella had never seen any hobbit, let alone her grandfather, so urgent. The shaking hobbit spluttered and choked on his answer, but he didn't have to for long. A howl cut through the night air, followed by a dozen others, and Bella felt as though ice water had been dumped in her veins. The Tooks around her looked much the same way.

"Adamanta, take the children to the cellar and stay there. Everyone else…needs to follow me. We cannot let those beasts reach the square," Old Took commanded, already grabbing knives and clubs used to play croquet. Any other group of hobbits would have heavily protested, but the Tooks looked determined. Bella never had to wonder why the phrase ' _fool of a Took_ ' had been coined. All of the Tooks were brave, if not reckless, and all were determined to protect the home they held so dear. Bella had never been so proud to be a Took in her life.

"Bungo, love, perhaps it is best if you were to stay here. Stay with the children. My mother is just itching to go with us and she'll never forgive Da for not letting her come along."

Both Bella and Bungo looked to see Adamanta Chubb testing the weight of a rather impressive wood chopping hatchet. The gleam in her eyes was enough to make them both shiver. No wonder she married a Took.

"Belladonna, I cannot stay while you go. I could not bear it. Bella can stay with the children, she is nearly of age!," Bungo pleaded with his beloved wife. Bella tried to swallow her disappointment. She wanted to help defend the Shire, but seeing the desperation on her father's face, she spoke up.

"Yes Mother, I can stay with the children. I will keep them safe," she said evenly. Belladonna looked at her daughter with distraught eyes and then back at her husband. The sigh that left her body sounded like complete and utter resignation.

"Bungo, stay near me or so help me I will chop you up and _hand feed_ you to the wolves, understood?," Belladonna fixed her husband with her Tookish glare. Bungo smiled nervously, be it from his wife's threat or the impending danger, Bella could not tell.

Bella hugged both of her parents fiercely and was hugged back just as fierce in return. She watched the adults leave before she bolted the door and lowered herself into the cellar.

"All right, cousins, how about a bit of a story, hm?," Bella said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster in the face of such horrors. She looked at their poor confused faces and took a breath.

"Tooks are very brave as you know. So brave that when an army of goblins tried to invade the Shire, Bullroarer Took…," the confusion left the little one's faces as Bella weaved magic into the tale. This would be the night that Bella realized her story telling abilities and she would use them to their full potential from this point forward.

"…and the game of golf was invented at the same time!," Bella finished with a satisfied air. The faunts giggled and grinned and, while Bella tried to return the favor, she could not. She was not sure, but she was almost positive that she had heard howls right as Bullroarer Took was charging the goblin hoard. Bella hadn't stumbled on her words, but it replaced the lighter feeling in her chest with dread.

"Ok little ones, I do believe it is time to sleep. Your parents should be back shortly and they will be very cross with me if I have not put you all to bed in the meantime. Get comfortable and settle in. We will leave the cellar come morning," Bella said with a surety she was not sure she felt. At that moment, little Adalgrim looked up at Bella.

"Will our parents come back?," the fauntling asked sleepily. Bella froze for moment. She struggled for words.

"We shall see come morning, Adalgrim. We shall see come morning." She cradled as many of the young hobbits to her as she could and the rest held on to one another. Soon she was surrounded by even breathing and some snoring, but Bella did not sleep that night or many nights after.

It was a long while before footsteps could be heard in the smial. Bella tensed when the latch of the cellar opened and she had to squint against the stream of sunlight. The faunts began to stir.

"Its alright, lass. You all can come out now." Bella tried not to notice the grim look on her grandmother's face or the smears of blood on her dress, but she could not.

"What happened? Is everyone alright? Are the wolves gone?", Bella said quickly as she helped faunts out of the cellar. They began running to find their parents. Bella found herself wanting to do the same. Adamanta shook her head and to Bella's horror, tears welled in her grave eyes.

"Lass…Oh, Bella. I'm so sorry," Bella's grandmother said in a choked whisper. Bella felt as if Bullroarer Took's club had smashed a hole through her chest.

"W-what are you saying, grandmother? What does that mean?", Bella choked through her quickly closing throat.

"Come with me, child. Your mother is this way." Bella followed in a haze. She knew something was wrong. She could feel it in the air. Dread settled in her stomach like a tangible thing, wrestling with itself and the coil of nerves wrapped around her heart.

They turned the corner to the sitting room and Bella could hear the sobs. She tried to take a breath and failed.

There, lying still on the floor, was her father. Her loving, sweet, wonderful father pale and unmoving. Her mother was a mass of shaking limbs and quivering curls next to him, her sobs the only sound in the crowded, but somber, room.

Bella couldn't move. She was still, frozen in that moment of horror. ' _Da,'_ her mind called out, _'Da wake up."_

Her mother gasped and turned to her daughter with red rimmed eyes. Bella had spoken aloud.

"Oh Bella, my lovely, lovely Bella. He is gone," she sobbed to her daughter before throwing herself on her husband's body in despair. Bella sat on the floor with a _thunk_ and looked at her shaking hands. Her tears were hot against he cold skin and she could focus on nothing but the sound of her mother's cries. This moment would haunt her dreams for years to come.

Now, as Bella surveyed what had become of her beloved Shire, she couldn't help but revisit horrid memories. Memories of the months after that night.

Of the orcs who had taken advantage of weakened borders. The hobbits who had died protecting their homes. Whole families slaughtered. Blood, blood, _blood._ The screaming, oh Yavanna, the screaming. Blank stares. Cold skin. Growls. Howls.

 _War._

The Shire had been at war since that day. The orcs, having seen the potential of the land, had tried to take it. They did not expect the Halflings of the West to fight back…only they did. They still fought to this day. And now Bella was…well she was…

"My Lady! My Queen! Queen Bella!", Hamfast Gamgee called as he came running up the blackened pathways. "The orcs are testing the borders once more! There are warg scouts closing in as we speak. Azog's spawn Bolg is at their center. He calls for your head."

Bella stayed silent for but a moment before a vicious smile lit up her scarred face.

"Let them come."

 **BAMF fem!Bilbo gives me life**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Wow. Chapter 4. This is legit. Reviews aren't motivating my writing, but constructive criticism and ideas are always welcome. This is my first fic, so it could really help with my future writing!**

 **Also,** _ **kshrimp**_ **and I are soul mates. BAMF fem!Bilbo brings everyone together.**

 **And let me know if this story is too hard to follow. I'm jumping around a lot and can't tell from my own perspective if things seem rushed or unclear. There. I'm done. Enjoy!**

 **Dagmaris**

Chapter 4

As a long fought battle waged once again in the Shire, a new battle was brewing in the king's chambers of Erebor.

"Gandalf, what is the meaning of this? You practically barge into my gates, unannounced, spewing some nonsense about an adventure that you wouldn't explain until we were in my chambers and now you stay silent! And what in Mahal's name is that child doing here?!," Thrain thundered. Gandalf, for the most part, had stayed quiet as he observed the collection of baubles Thrain had on his mantle. The child clutched the wizard's neck as he shook in terror from the loud angry dwarf.

"You know Thrain, I never thought you a collector. These items are most amusing. Is that music box of elvish make? It looks quite like the one Lord Elro-"

"Gandalf!"

"Oh alright, alright. Please do stop shouting. I believe you are scaring my young traveling companion. And here I was, regaling great tales of the hospitality of dwarrow. Honestly Thrain, is this how you treat all of your guests?," Gandalf said huffily as he plopped himself and the child in the chair beside the hearth. The child took the opportunity to hide himself deeper into the wizard's robes. Gandalf seemed to have quite forgotten the boy was even there. Thrain looked as though his head could burst at any moment and Thorin wondered whether or not he should calm his raging father. He decided against and sat at his father's right hand. He had done sat here many times for delegation meetings.

"Gandalf," Thrain ground out slowly and angrily, "please do enlighten us on the manner of your visit. It would be much _appreciated."_

"Well Thrain, that's more like it!" Thorin had to put a restraining hand on his father's shoulder. The wizard seemed to not notice. "A few months ago, I was passing through lands to the West, not too far from the Blue Mountains, actually, and came across a friend in…need. You see, there is a place called the Shire. It is where the hobbits, or Halflings as you may know them, live. They are a peaceful race who live among rolling green fields and are always full of heart and cheer…or they were." Gandalf's face darkened and he looked down to the child in his arms with something akin to sadness. It was the first time Thorin had seen the wizard look so pensive.

"Some thirty years ago, a great winter fell across these green lands. The hobbits, used to sun and plentiful food, were unprepared. They were not starving, but they were also not adapted. Many families began struggling. And then the wolves came." Thorin began to think that this story did not have a happy ending. He looks to the boy in the wizard's arms and finds eyes that are far too old for his young face staring back at him. The fire crackled and sparks floated from the hearth.

"Hobbits were slaughtered in the streets, causing many to try and barricade their homes and wait out the winter. Many starved. One family, the Took clan, decided to take up arms and defend their homes. They went out in the night with anything that could be used as a weapon and waged war against the beasts terrorizing their homeland. My friend, Belladonna Took Baggins, fought to avenge her husband's death. Just when the winter began to end and the river protecting their boarders began to thaw, the wolves retreated. The hobbits thought it a victory. Old Took, the patriarch of the Took clan, thought otherwise."

Thrain had finally lost his angry red color and seemed to be listening to the tale. Thorin found himself listening as well. Thorin had only ever heard of Halflings once from his grandfather after he had visited the Blue Mountains. Thror had not said much only that they were soft creatures with no ruler to speak of and the most effective pipe weed Thror had ever had. Thorin felt a small pang of empathy for these Halflings of the west. He understood their plight better than most.

"The Old Took had never been wrong before, and this time was no difference. I cannot divulge in all of the details of what happened next as they are not relevant and rather delicate, but the battle for the Shire had just begun. Orcs from the North capitalized on the weakened state of the hobbits of the Shire. What they did not anticipate was for the soft hearted and battle ignorant Halflings to fight back." Gandalf had acquired a fond expression as he talked about the strength of these hobbits of the Shire. The wizard had an obvious preference for these creatures.

"The hobbits rallied, pushing the small number of orcs, as they thought they would only need few, to the other side of the Brandywine. An orc has not crossed that border since, and not for lack of trying."

"This is all well and good Gandalf, but what does this have to do with Erebor, with me? Why am I being bothered with news of a war of a different race that has been waging for thirty years?," Thrain asked exasperatedly. Gandalf looked quite put out at the interruption.

"Because Thrain son Thror, this tale has not finished just yet! The daughter of my dear friend, Belladonna Took, is known now as Queen Bella of the Shire and this child I hold in my arms is her heir, and therefore a prince. I have been entrusted with this boy's safety and your fortress is the only place I would entrust him to, as well. This mountain withstood a dragon, I am sure it can keep out a few measly orcs if it came to that."

Thrain was speechless as was Thorin. _'Is this wizard asking what I think he is asking,'_ Thorin thought to himself. ' _Not a question, rather, it's a command.'_

"Gandalf, I'm afraid I must clarify. You are saying that you would like for me to risk my kingdom, my people, for a so called prince of a species that, if I am not mistaken, had no ruler up until war and that you traveled months so that he could be hidden specifically within my halls," Thrain said incredulously. Gandalf just made a noise of affirmation. Thorin had the sudden urge to rub his temples.

"How on Middle Earth do you expect me to agree with this? Not only is this not our fight, but this child is not even a dwarf!"

"Of course he's not a dwarf! He's a hobbit. A Frodo Baggins hobbit to be exact." Gandalf was now standing at this point. Thorin was suddenly reminded that they were in a small room with a very large wizard who seemed to be getting irritated. That did not stop his next words, though.

"Why should we agree? Why would we agree to a possible risk with no rewards?," Thorin rumbled. Gandalf turned his stormy gaze to the Crown Prince. Thorin did not break the stare.

"Because, Thorin Thrainson, I thought you might be quite interested in the affairs of hobbits when you heard who is leading the forces against them."

"And why would that interest me?"

"Have you forgotten your vow to take vengeance against Azog the Defiler?", the wizard said gravely. A heavy silence filled the room.

Azog the Defiler was a known dwarf killer. After Thror had abdicated the throne, Thrain decided to march into the long awaited battle for Moria. Thror stood by his son's side, but they had been naïve to think they could ever win back that cursed place. Their losses were grievous, but to Thorin, none had amounted to the death of his grandfather.

Thror had been beheaded on the battlefield, Azog standing victorious over his corpse. He had made a point to end the Line of Durin and Thorin had taken his arm for it. The last he saw of that Pale Orc filth, he was being pushed, half dead, into the doomed gates of Moria. Thorin had thought him dead.

"Azog lives? That is not possible", Thrain choked out. He was pale. Thorin knew the beast still haunted his father's dreams.

"He does not live. He thrives. The Defiler has set his evil eyes on the Shire and he will not stop until he has claimed it. I ask of you only to send aid to the land to the west. With the dwarrow of Erebor on their side, they cannot fail," Gandalf said confidently. The child in his arms had been tense ever since the Pale Orc had been mentioned.

Thrain closed his eyes for a moment before opening them, a sad determination set within him.

"No. I will not send aid." Gandalf gaped.

"Thrain, honestly, after everything I have tol-"

"I cannot risk my people! Not again, never again," Thrain said haunted. Thorin wanted to extend his hand to his father's shoulder, but he knew the gesture of comfort would not be appreciated by his father in front of the wizard.

"I do understand, truly, but if you could just-"

"No, Gandalf. I will not. You ask too much." Gandalf sighed deeply.

"Very well. And what do you say for the boy? Will you refuse him, too?," the wizard asked angrily. Thrain glanced at the boy. With his black hair and blue eyes, he looked much like Thorin did when he was a young boy. The stone around Thrain's heart cracked, slightly.

"What do you propose I do with him?," Thrain asked with some resignation. The relief of the wizard's face surprised Thorin.

"I am aware of the trouble with bearing children many dwarrow have. I am sure you will have no trouble finding a place for him. Dwarrow prize children above all else, do they not?"

"So you believe I can just-", the door burst open and in walked Dis, Princess of Erebor, followed by her family and brother.

"Adad, where have you been? We have been looking everywh-oh!", Dis noticed the man sized wizard in her father's chambers and froze.

"Dis, what are you stopping for? Are they not here?," Frerin's cheerful voice said before he too noticed the scene in front of him. "Oh sorry, we didn't realize you were attending to business. We will just leave now. Good evening."

Frerin tried to drag his sister and nephews out of the room as Thrain glared at them. Gandalf interrupted their depature.

"No, no it is quite alright, we were just finishing up, weren't we Thrain?," Gandalf said pointedly.

"Yes, I suppose we were," Thrain said grumpily.

"Excuse me, sir, I don't mean to intrude, but what is that?," Dis asked curiously as she peered into the wizard's arms.

"Why, this is Frodo Baggins, my charge of the past few months," Gandalf said cheerily.

"That is a child?!," Dis said horrified as she rushed over to the wizard. Gandalf looked rather startled by her outburst.

"Of course he is a child!"

"You can't hold a child like that! It is uncomfortable!," Dis exclaimed as she carefully collected the child from Gandalf's arms. He was much younger than Thorin had thought.

"I have been holding him like that our entire journey and he has not once complained!," Gandalf said. Thorin expected him to be irritated, but was shocked at the lilt of amusement in his tone. Dis cooed at the child before she answered.

"It is probably due to the fact that he could not breathe through all of those robes. Honestly, when was the last time you washed them? You cannot expose a child to such filth!," Dis said angrily. Thrain looked exasperated.

"Dis, you should not be so free with your insults!," Thrain scolded but she, in true Dis form, ignored him. Gandalf only chuckled.

"It is quite alright, Thrain. I would not argue with her expertise, having not raised two young ones on her own," he said with a look at Fili and Kili, who were currently climbing on top of one another to get to the cookie jar Thrain kept stashed. Frerin was on the bottom of their dwarf ladder.

Dis continued to fawn over the young hairless child. Thorin had to admit, he was rather adorable, as hairless as he was. He was almost tempted to vouch for the child to stay. Almost.

He was too busy watching his sister and the child to notice the spark ignite in the old wizard's eye.

"Lady Dis, you are so good with children, particularly with young Master Frodo here, I wonder if you would be so inclined as to-"

"No, Gandalf! Absolutely not," Thrain exclaimed, getting to his feet.

"Well I was merely going to ask if-"

"No!"

"Adad, honestly, I can speak for myself! What were you saying, sir," Dis asked politely, though she did not look up from her gaze on the child.

Gandalf, Thorin noticed, positively beamed.

 **This story is just so fun to write.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I never thought that I would ever be able to write something over a thousand words, let alone a chapter story, and publish it. It feels amazing! I am so happy I finally made the decision to contribute to a fandom that I love so dearly. If you like the story, or love the fandom, I would be happy to hear from you! I plan to respond to any reviews I receive, but just reading my story is enough for me. I pray that I am doing Middle Earth and its inhabitants justice and all credits must go to Mr. Tolkien, who unwittingly changed lives forevermore. God Bless. Enjoy!**

 **Dagmaris**

 **Warning!: Battle scenes and gore up ahead. Possibly M, but maybe not.**

Chapter 5

"Really Hamfast, I am quite alright. It is merely a scratch, honestly. You shouldn't kick up such a fuss. It's bad for your health," Bella said to her concerned friend. He simply glared at her.

When Bella's parents had been alive, Hamfast had been their gardener. Him being but only a few years older than Bella had not prevented him from taking on the role of her honorary protector. Bella could not ask for a more diligent and loyal friend, but that did not mean she wanted him to fuss about her scratches when he should be home with his family , resting his battle weary limbs.

"My Lady, I saw you take a blow to the head. You really shouldn't be on your own. We've lost far too many hobbits to post-battle death sleep, and we absolutely cannot lose you," he said stubbornly. The man was so insistent on addressing her by titles at all times despite Bella's requests of, ' Just Bella Baggins, please and thank you.' She knew he meant it as respect, but at present, with the battle so fresh in her memory, it made her head ache.

"Hamfast, I promise you that I am well. This is hardly my first battle. I know how to handle a few knocks about the head. Not to mention a scratch or two," she said as poor tasted joke about the scars on her face. Hamfast's frown only deepened.

"My Lady please just-"

"No Hamfast. Go home to your wife and little Sam. Rest, for you are tired. I will stay awake tonight if it shall appease your wearied mind and come morning you will see that no death sleep has befallen me. And stop calling me 'My Lady.' It reminds me of the tales my mother used to tell me when I was a faunt about princesses needing a rescuer. I have long given up hope for rescue," Bella said, her final words ending somberly. Hamfast gave a tired smile in return.

"No Bella, you are the rescuer," he said gently. Bella's eyes welled with tears at the sincerity of his tone. She smiled a sweet smile that Hamfast had not seen for some time and sorely missed. Mistress Bella had always had lovely smile, and still did, despite the scars.

"Goodnight Hamfast. Kiss Bell and the children for me. And rest, my friend," Bella said, patting the Gaffer's shoulder gently. He patted her hand in turn and began walking away. Before he could go through the gate, Bella called out.

" Hamfast!" He turned. Bella took a breath. " You fought well today."

His eyes looked haunted for a moment, but he nodded with a grim smile before walking off into the night. Bella watched him disappear into the dark before closing her door.

The instant she had quadruple bolted the door, Bella fell to the ground and wept. Her leather armor pulled at her new wounds, but she paid them no mind. Her only pain was grief.

The battle this day had been much more grievous than expected. The orcs were getting craftier with their attacks because they were learning how to use the land to their advantage.

Bella had led a group of some fifty hobbits to the banks of the Brandywine after Hamfast had informed her of the orcs forming at the north shore. It did not seem like a sizeable force, but each hobbit had an upwards of fifteen years fighting experience and Bella was confident in their abilities. They would not have lasted this war if the hobbits had not become skilled in battle.

Though hobbits fought bravely and fiercely, they still had no love for violence. Bella made sure as their chosen queen that she reminded them of all the qualities that made them hobbits. Whether it was because she did not want them to lose themselves to battle or she did not want to lose herself, Bella could not determine. All she knew was that the hobbits walked into every battle with a grim determination.

"Hobbits of the Shire!," Bella called out to them as they stopped on the bank, "Soldiers! Comrades! Friends…we fight once more this day to defend our homes. Our families. Each other. I ask you not to be a murderer today, but a defender, a protector. We have fought many battles and this one is no different. We will fight. We will fight to the last hobbit, should it come to that, and if they intend to make this day our end then we shall make them know the wrath of our blades and the courage of our spirits! We will not, cannot, let them through. This land is not theirs for the taking. This is our home and it will not be taken without them having to rip our cold bodies from the ground they are so intent on stealing! Yavanna be with you!"

The hobbits did not cheer as they did not take joy or pride in the task at hand, but their courage did not wane. They held their ground even as the first orc set foot on the southern bank.

A rain of arrows flew across the hill from behind the hobbits and struck down the first wave of the attack. While the orcs were disoriented from the surprise of the arrows, Bella motioned for the hobbits to charge. A battle cry lifted from the mass of hobbits and the fighting began.

Swords clashed and bones crunched. Blood sprayed into the air and the water began to run crimson and black. Orcs were vicious fighters, using every trick they could think of to fell their opponent. Bella screamed when she saw a poor hobbit get his throat torn out by the razor teeth of the orc he was fighting. She picked up a small dagger and threw it right between the orc's eyes in an effort to save the hobbit, but it was no use. He fell to the ground, lifeless.

Around her the battle waged on. Hobbits fought valiantly, cutting through orc flesh with ease and determination. The orcs were growling and howling with pain and, occasionally, a hobbit would scream in agony.

Bella was fighting two orcs at once, trying her best to fend them off with her quicker steps, when their size finally overwhelmed her. She had parried, but the second orc threw her off balance and she fell to the ground, hitting her temple on a rock.

Bella saw stars for a moment and terror seized her. She was going to die.

She grappled for her sword, but it was no use. The orc stomped her hand with its grimy boot and Bella screamed in pain, though it was drowned out by the clangs of battle. Bella looked toward her sword in desperation and was met with the blank, unstaring eyes of Adalgrim Took. Bella's heart seemed to stop beating. She hadn't even known he was there today.

Adalgrim had been fighting since he had been of age, Bella knew that, but she still could only see the fauntling from that night in the cellar looking up at her with sleepy eyes. A sob caught in her throat, but it was no longer from the pain.

"Cry Queenie, there's no one to save you," the orc growled as he smiled a black smile and raised his crude blade. Bella could not take her eyes of off Adalgrim's blank face.

Just then, the orc above Bella gasped. An arrow had bloomed from his chest and he fell with an expression similar to a gutted fish. Bella whipped her head, though it made her dizzy, to find Hamfast standing there with a bow in hand. Arrows flew from his bow faster than a bumble bee flies and Bella, in her addled state, could only watch.

"Bella!," Hamfast yelled at her. "Bella you must get up! Bolg is just across the river, you must brace yourself! Bella!"

Bella looked around her to see what he was yelling about. Bolg was here? Yes. Yes, he was.

Just across the river stood the Pale Orc's son in all of his horrendous glory. He sat on the back of a warg and Bella was still out of it enough to wonder how the smaller animal supported his bulk. She would have laughed if she weren't so dazed. Bolg seemed to sense her staring and looked straight at her. His own eyes lit up with glee and his deformed mouth twisted in what Bella guessed was meant to be a smirk. He _waved_ at her and Bella simply squinted at him from the ground. He yelled something to the orcs beside him and, to Bella's shock, they began a retreat. The orcs already on the south banks had no choice but to continue to fight.

Suddenly, Bella was jerked off the ground by her arms. Thinking the second orc had come back to finish the job, Bella began kicking back and struggling. A voice broke through her fear.

"Bella, it's me! Its Hamfast! It's over. We have won, My Lady. It's over. It's finished." His words did not comfort her. She powered out of his hold and fell beside her dear cousin. Around her, many hobbits were doing the same. She stroked his hair for a moment before closing his open eyes. She pressed a kiss to each lid. He could be sleeping.

"I'm afraid you are wrong Hamfast," Bella said, not looking up from petting the dead hobbit's head. She thought of Bolg's cruel face. "It is far from being over."

Bella pressed one last kiss on Adalgrim's forehead before she left him. Hobbits with stretchers were already coming to collect the wounded and dead. Hamfast looked as grief stricken as Bella felt. Seventeen hobbits lay dead. It was the highest death count for one battle they had had in years. All Bella could think of were the grieving families who would not sleep this night and, looking back at Adalgrim, she knew she would have to count herself among them.

And now, weeping on the floor as she was, Bella did not think of the battle or Adalgrim or the grief of her people. Bella thought of everything she had lost. Her Shire. Her friends. Her cousins. Her parents. _Her Frodo._

A wail ripped through her as she thought of her dear nephew. She had not seen him in nearly a year, not after Gandalf had taken him away with promises of a happy life and a safe home for her heir.

Frodo's parents had been more than Bella's cousins, they had also been her dearest friends. Drogo was a soldier, but sweet, gentle Prim was a healer. Bella's first act as the first Queen of The Shire had been to oversee their wedding. It had been a joyous occasion amidst a lifetime of grief.

And then Frodo had come. By Yavanna had Bella loved that boy. He was the light of her life. Prim had joked once that Bella was Frodo's real mother and that the Valar had made a mistake in granting her the child because she and Bella were so close. How Bella wished that had only stayed a joke.

A year after Frodo's birth, Drogo was slain in battle. Prim had run onto the battlefield and had been struck down by an orc archer. Bella had watched both of her friends die. She single handedly slaughtered forty-eight orcs that day in her grief.

Frodo took on the role of being Frodo's mother easily. She loved the boy already and he her. She had duties as queen, yes, but she had always wanted a family. She just hated how it had come about.

Bella made sure Frodo knew how wonderful his parents were and how much they loved him. She made sure he wanted for nothing, but still despaired at the life he would have to lead. He was surrounded by the devastation of war and there was no end in sight. That was why when Gandalf the Grey snuck into the Shire one cold night, she got a thought.

She discussed the thought with Gandalf and he sadly agreed. The safest place for Frodo was to be was away from the Shire and away from Bella.

Frodo had left reluctantly, but reassured by Bella's promises to see him soon. He was also a child and excited by the prospect of going on an adventure with a real life wizard.

Bella watched them go with tears rolling down her face and worry in her heart. She had promised Prim she would take care of Frodo should something ever happen and Bella could only hope Prim would approve of what she was doing. She waved them goodbye and sent a silent prayer to Yavanna that she would see her boy again.

Bella finally controlled herself enough to get off of the floor. She dry heaved as she willed her aching body to move to her bedroom.

When she reached the room, she paused to look at herself in the mirror.

Her curly gold hair was falling from the braids she had contained it in for battle. Her armor was scuffed and her shirt was torn. There was a bruise blossoming on her temple and her eyes were swollen and puffy from the tears. And then, of course, there were the scars.

Bella had gotten the scars two years after the war against the orcs started. They were from Azog's white warg. They cut her from hairline to chin, three thick lines that would forever mar her face and her smile.

A vain part of Bella mourned her damaged face. She had been a bonny lass once, she knew, and now she looked no better than the orcs she was fighting.

Heaving a sigh, she began to strip of her battle clothes. She needed to bathe, but she was too far into her grief to do so.

Bella stripped bare before lying in her bed. She stared at the ceiling and her headache hit her in full force. She ignored it and got up to clean her wounds. Eru forbid she died from infection after all she had been through.

When her wounds were clean and bandaged and she had sponged most of the grime from her sore body, Bella put on a nightgown and stared at the ceiling once more. Tears still leaked from her eyes, but she was not sobbing.

Bella rolled over and watched the single candle flicker and dance. Exhaustion began creeping up on her, but true to her promise to Hamfast, Bella did not sleep that night.

 **Wow. That was super angst. I'm so sorry. This is just…mm. Poor Bella ):**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** _ **kshrimp,**_ **you are just the queen of reviews. Regarding Thorin, he is extremely hard to write, especially in present circumstances. If you'll notice, Gandalf sort of implied that Erebor could be attacked because of Frodo's presence. "This mountain fought off a dragon, surely it could fend off a few measly orcs if it came to that." And of course Gandalf, being Gandalf, gave as little information as possible. So Thorin and his father were under the impression that Frodo would also be a threat. (And 'save me from the stubbornness of dwarves' was definitely running through my mind on repeat for that chapter.)**

 **Also, Thorin will be a leader, but I have just always thought him quieter and more a thinker than Thrain. Not smarter per say, just an observer rather than one who rages and yells. And Dis, I do believe, is about to become my favorite character to write. She has a huge role to play in this story.**

 **AND ANYONE HERE FOR THILBO, I AM SO SORRY.I swear there will be romance, but it is very far away. A lot of stuff has to happen beforehand.**

 **Thank you all for reading, reviews are encouraged (but not at all necessary), and Enjoy!**

 **Dagmaris**

Chapter 6

Despite Thrain's best efforts, Dis had almost lunged at the opportunity to care for the faunt. Thorin began to fear for the wizard as Dis looked about ready to pounce on him with delight. Thrain groaned.

"Gandalf, why is it that trouble must follow you wherever you go? You know I have half a mind to…," Thrain began ranting at the smiling wizard. Dis, Thorin, Frerin and the boys did not notice. Dis was busy showing off her newest charge to her sons and explaining that he would be staying with them for a while and that they boys must be on their best behavior. Thorin snorted at that, but took the time to observe the child.

He was much smaller than a dwarf babe. He looked frail and frightened, but he did not cry out as Fili began petting his hair and Kili gave him a hearty poke to the cheek. Dis swatted the boys' hands away when the child's mouth started to quiver.

"But amad, he don't got no hairs," Kili said with wonder. His poking had been a search for hair on the child's cheeks. Dis sighed.

"Well Kili, that is because he is not a dwarf," she explained gently. Fili looked at her wide eyed.

"Really? I thought he was Uncle Thorin's irregular child and that you were going to care for him because Uncle can't change diapers," Fili said. Thorin choked and Dis screamed with laughter that startled the child in her arms. She cooed to him to calm him and the child visibly relaxed in her practiced arms. She chuckled quietly.

"Fili, do you mean to say that you thought this boy was Thorin's _illegitimate_ child?," she asked with great mirth. Fili nodded earnestly. Thorin sat, mouth agape and ears turning red. Thrain and Gandalf were still exchanging quips back and forth and did not notice the others in the room. Dis began giggling at her brother's expression. "Why ever would you think that, my darling?"

"He looks just like him! Well, except for the nose. His hair and his eyes match Uncle," Fili said as a matter of fact. Dis stopped chuckling and observed the child in her arms.

"You know, Fili, you are quite right. Nadad, stand here," she motioned for her brother to stand in front of her and her sons. Thorin barely recovered himself from the shock to do so. Dis held the child out carefully beside her brother. Thorin looked at the child proclaimed to be his likeness.

He supposed, as far as coloring went, they were _similar._ Their eyes were similar shades of blue and their hair was fairly the same shade of black. Ok, and yes, maybe the child did have a few of his expressions and sure he scowled like that a few times a day, but that did not mean that this boy could be his mistaken for his illegitimate child…did it?

"It's uncanny, namad. Are you sure you haven't had any flings with a Halfling because this boy could be your son," she said with wide eyes that whipped back and forth between their faces.

"Very funny Dis," Thorin said sarcastically as he began walking away from the child, but he took a moment to wrack his brain for any memories of bedding a hobbit. He shook that thought away. ' _He's not your son Thorin, you've never even met a Halfling before. He just has your eyes…and hair…and face.'_ Thorin shook out of his thoughts as he made his way to the bickering wizard and king of Erebor. He had some things he needed to say.

"That boy cannot just be adopted into the Line of Durin! We have no laws or precautions for adoption because it just doesn't happen!"

"That _boy's_ __name is Frodo Baggins and I think that he will do just fi-"

"He is a risk! You have yet to explain his true purpose for being here and I refuse to accept him until you do!"

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves!," Gandalf exclaimed before stalking out of the room. Dis, Fili, and Kili hurried out of his way. Frerin had left earlier to retrieve Nili for Dis.

"Where are you going?," Thorin called to the wizard.

"To be with the only one who has any compassion left in this mountain and that is _myself_ , Thorin," Gandalf called out behind him.

"Do not mistake compassion with nosiness, wizard!," Thrain called after him in an effort to get the last word. Thorin groaned in frustration as he began walking after the wizard. He still had questions.

He thought he had lost the wizard for a moment, but soon found him sitting on the barracks that overlooked the battlements. He was smoking a pipe.

"If you are intending to speak with me Thorin Thrainson, then I would appreciate you coming out from the shadows," Gandalf said without looking at him. Thorin rolled his eyes.

"I have questions for you wizard," Thorin said as he sat on the opposite bench. Gandalf raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise as he blew a smoke ring. Thorin ignored him.

"This child…Frodo. I am afraid my sister is coming to care for him already and with her, the rest of us will as well. I am not unwilling to accept him as a nephew, but I need to know… how long do you expect he will stay here?," Throin asked gravely. The wizard seemed surprised at the question.

"I do not know. At the least a year. At the most…if the queen, his aunt, is felled, then he will have no guardian. I would hope that the Lady Dis would care for him, then, but if not I will," he said seriously. Thorin nodded and braced for the next questions.

"How serious is the battle in his homeland?," he asked next. Gandalf blew another smoke ring before breathing deeply.

"Serious. Serious enough for the queen to send her nephew away. Serious enough for me to return when I leave this place and offer aid. I believe I shall ask Elrond to aid them next. I didn't have the chance to stop in Rivendell for I was in a hurry."

"Why did you not leave the boy there? Why travel all this way?," Thorin asked curiously.

"I'm afraid Lord Elrond already has a young prince in his charge," Gandalf said lightly. Thorin snorted.

"There are a lot of princes in the West who need special accommodation?," he asked, amused. Gandalf lost the glint in his eyes and suddenly looked grave.

"There are dark times ahead Prince Thorin. You best brace yourselves," the wizard said ominously. Thorin swallowed and silence filled the night. It was a while before Thorin spoke again.

"Concerning the…lifespan, of hobbits, if Dis and Nili were to have to care for the child indefinitely would he be…I mean would he…?," Thorin trailed off and hoped Gandalf got his meaning. The wizard's pained smile told him he did.

"Yes. If Dis were to keep Frodo indefinitely, the boy is likely to die of old age before Dis reaches over the middle of her second century. He will be an old man by the time your sister sons are of age." Thorin had been afraid of that. He knew the fleeting lives of Men, but he never imagined the Halfling's life would be that fleeting as well.

"So that's it then?," a voice said from behind them. Thorin whirled but Gandalf sighed.

"Lady Dis," he greeted.

" Wizard," she said coldly. She was cradling the sleeping faunt in her arms. "You would have me love and care for this child only for his life to snuffed out right before my very eyes. That is cruel, even for a being such as yourself."

Thorin winced at the venom in her sister's tone. Gandalf looked at her with a somewhat fond sadness.

"My Lady, I do hope it does not come to that. My intent is to return the boy to his family before the next year is done. I only ask for you to care for him until that time comes," he said gently. Dis sniffed.

"I don't understand a mother that would give her child up for any amount of time," Dis said petulantly. Thorin knew her tone well. It was the same one she got when she had been told she was too little to fight in the Battle of Moria.

"I imagine his mother would not have, but she died some year and a half ago. His aunt, however, is looking after him properly. She wishes him to have a happy, safe life. You cannot fault her for that," Gandalf said not unkindly. Dis looked ashamed at her words, but said nothing. Gandalf stood.

"I will stay the night here, and bid you all farewell come morning. I wish you all the luck I can spare, my friends. 'Tis a long journey ahead of us," the wizard said as he clapped Thorin on the shoulder and patted Dis gently. He stroked a finger down the sleeping faunt's nose before sweeping off in whirl of grey robes and pipe weed smoke.

In the arms of a dwarf princess, and the eyes of a dwarf prince, a hobbit child yawned.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thank you** _ **PoisonIvy7**_ **for your review! I honestly don't mind the lack of reviews seeing as how it's my first story and I am only on Chapter 6, but the reviews I do receive I hope are from people like you who understand how to read an AU. I am so glad that my AU has kept you interest and I hope it will continue to do so. I'm going pretty far with it and I'm going to try to make it as believable as possible while staying true to how I envision it going. Like I said, I don't think it's exactly like any other fics out there, right now, so maybe that will draw more reviewer's attention.**

 _ **Akiluna,**_ **I very much appreciated you taking the time to write a review. This story really just popped into my head one day with a certain scene (that I haven't written yet) and the rest of the back story just fell in place. Also, like I told** _ **PoisonIvy7**_ **, I really appreciate reviews from someone who understands how to read an AU. Most characters in my AU will have OOC moments, but I plan to make them have less and less as the story progresses and new experiences are had. Concerning the length of my chapters, I'm going to be honest; I am totally winging this story. I just sit down and write a chapter everyday and I have no clue where it's going until I'm done. I hope my chapters get longer once I get to a certain point that I want to get to, but considering this is my first story, I have no clue how my writing will progress. I can promise that there will never be a chapter under 1000 words, though.**

 _ **Kshrimp,**_ **the Fili/Kili/Frerin/Frodo shenanigans are making me laugh and cringe just thinking about them. :D**

 **Next up: Time jump!**

Chapter 7

 _2 years later_

"Retreat! Fall back! To the Great Hall! Fall back! Retreat!," Bella's voice cut through the crisp night air and the sounds of battle. Hobbits all around her began yelling her words to those within range.

Bella sliced the belly of the orc she had been fending off and then swung to cut through the flesh of the orc behind her's shoulder. She was covered from head to toe in black blood and the only part of her that could be seen clearly was the gleam of her teeth as she snarled at the oncoming attack. They were going to lose, but the young queen was not going to make it easy for them.

A flash of white light cracked through the night sky and for a moment it seemed as though a thunder storm had befallen them. Hobbits and orcs alike hit the ground from the blast. Gandalf the Grey was the only being left standing. Bella had not seen the Grey Wizard in nearly two years, but she took the time to marvel at his impeccable timing.

"Hobbits fight back! Fight to the Great Hall!," his voice dripped with power. Bella, still dazed from the blast, noticed that the Hobbits were recovering much quicker than the orcs from the light and were getting up. She, too, began to groggily stand, but was hindered by the great stinking orc that had fallen on top of her. She struggled to lift him off, but he was far too heavy. She began to choke on the scent and the weight when the orc was thrown off of her. Gandalf stood with crazed eyes.

"Bella Baggins, I have never been so happy to see someone in all of my life," he said relieved as he bodily lifted her to her feet. Her vision swam for a moment.

"Come, we must go. Your people are barricading the Great Hall as we speak," Gandalf said urgently. He didn't think to grab her, for why would she run? But she did. Gandalf yelled after her but she paid him no mind. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him yell, 'Fool of a Took.' She was too far away to know for sure.

Bella sliced at any orcs who were beginning to lift themselves from the ground and ran to where the battle had first began.

It had started as a normal day. The sun was even shining brighter than usual and Bella had the passing thought that perhaps things were going to be looking up. There had not been an attack or a battle in over a month and, though the orcs still sat at their borders, Bella thought this war was perhaps ending. ' _If things continue this way perhaps…perhaps Frodo could come home.'_ Bella had not entertained such a thought in a very long time. It brought too much pain, but now that it could be real…Bella smiled. There was hope. And then night came.

Bella was sitting down for dinner, a single candle illuminating the room as she spruced up her rations as much as she could with the limited spices she had. She had just tucked into to the measly fish she had caught from the pond when a bang sounded on her door. She paused, irritated, before she got up and shuffled to the door. She would never forget the face that stood behind it.

Hamson Gamgee, Hamfast's eldest son, stood stricken and pale on her doorstep. He disheveled and his eyes were wide as saucers. Bella's stomach dropped.

"My Lady, they're here. They're invading in a night raid! They have crossed the river!," he panted to her as she steadied his shoulders. She sucked in a breath and looked passed his shaking body. Far in the distance, a mass of torches held by what looked like a giant gleaming beetle was marching towards the heart of the Shire. Bella's heart began to race.

"Hamson, lad, where is your father?," she asked as she began moving about Bag End and grabbing her gear for battle. She checked Sting and found it glowing blue. She had gotten Sting from her mother years ago. Her mother had tried to visit Lord Elrond years ago to ask for aid, but had been stopped by a trio of trolls. Somehow she had tricked them into waiting outside until the sun came up and they all turned to stone. She never made it to Rivendell after that, but she did raid the troll cave and found a small elvish sword fit for a hobbit.

Belladonna had returned just in time for the first orcs to border the Shire to arrive. Belladonna fought with her new sword skillfully, but aid did not reach her before she was stabbed with a poisoned blade. Bella was presented with Sting as her mother lay on her deathbed from the poison. The blade was named after the sting that death causes and it had served Bella well over the course of the war. Each orc life it took was in the name of vengeance for her mother's death.

"He is gathering the front line now," Hamson said urgently as he watched the queen dart about, "he asked me to assist you in his stead." Bella paused at the implication. If Hamfast could not come himself then that most likely meant that the battle had already begun and he could not leave his soldiers without direction. Bella renewed her darting with vigor.

"Alright Hamson, this is what I need. Go to the Great Hall and prepare the hobbits in there to brace its entrance. If the orcs get farther than the pond, then we must make our stand there. Take the children there and deploy some of the soldiers who guard the bridge to go there," Bella ordered. The hobbits were going to be stretched thin, but they didn't have a choice. They had to fight. Bella strapped her sword to her armor and tied a leather cord around her hair. It most likely wouldn't hold, but she couldn't worry about that now.

"Yes, My Lady," Hamson said politely and ran out the door into the night. Bella paused to watch after him and thought about what a good lad he was. He would grow up to be a fine hobbit. She tightened the leather of her armor once more and then she, too, stole off into the night.

Bella ran quickly and quietly down the paths of Bag End and made her way to where she could see Hamfast had gathered their soldiers. Hamfast rushed over to her as soon as she was in sight, Bell right on his heels. Bell had just started fighting again a six months ago, almost a year and a half after she had had her youngest, Samwise. She was a fierce woman and Bella couldn't help but be relieved she was joining their ranks this night.

"Miss Bella, I trust my boy made it to you safely," Bell said worriedly. Bella gripped her hand and smiled grimly.

"Yes Bell, he did. I sent him to look after the children in the Great Hall. He will be safe there. He's a good lad," she said to her friend. Hamfast grunted.

"Aye he is, but now isn't the time to talk of it. The orcs are just making it over the hill. I sent a scout to estimate their numbers. He said they still have not completely crossed the river," the Gaffer said grimly. Bella swallowed. If the orcs had not completely crossed the river and she could see their ranks from here, then that would put their numbers at well over two thousand. The expression on Hamfast's face told him he knew that as well.

"Why?," Bella choked out, "Why do they have so many? What is their purpose? Why are they so desperate to have the Shire?" It was not the first time that question had been asked, but it was never answered. The Thirty Year War for the Shire remained a mystery.

"I do not know, My Lady, but we only number at five hundred…we cannot last the night," Hamfast said grimly. Bell gripped his hand.

"No…we cannot. But we have not survived thirty years to have it end like this. Hamfast, send a messnger to the Great Hall. Tell him that when the battle crosses over the pond and spills into the market to get those barricaded in the Hall out the back way. Circle them around the outskirts of the fight, sticking to the woods, and start north towards Rivendell. I am sure Lord Elrond will offer them aid. Tonight may be the end of the Shire, but I will be long dead before it is the end of the race of hobbits." Bella had regained her bearing as she gave the order. It was not hard to see why they had chosen her as queen. In that moment, with her eyes glinting determination and moonlight, she had never looked more like a queen. Hamfast bowed to her and made his way to a new scout.

"The rest of you!," she addressed the soldiers. " Tonight, the true battle begins. This is the battle not for the Shire, for it is already lost, but for the survival of our people. Tonight determines if the race of hobbits lives on in Middle Earth or if it all ends here. Our memory, our history, our death…it could all be forever lost on this very ground. Our death is not true death. We could live on in memory. But if we let ourselves as well as our memory die, then that death is true. Our struggle and plight will be lost to the winds of time and evil and then what? What will we have been fighting for? What will have died for?"

"Hobbits of the Shire! On this night, we die. But we do not die in vain! We fight for our memory and the memory of those before us! We fight for all hobbits! We fight for all family! We fight so others may _live!,"_ Bella exclaimed to her soldiers. A determined yell came up from the hobbits. Bella looked on to them with pride. It always amazed her, the courage of hobbits.

"Friends…it is my honor to fight and die along side you," she said quietly, but they heard. Slowly, the hobbits raised their weapons to her. Swords and axes alike were lifted to the stars and angled to the Queen of the Hobbits. It was a sight Bella would never forget.

Bella looked back at the Shire and her people once more, before she turned to view her fate. The line of orcs seemed an unbreakable wave marching towards them and Bella found herself mustering up courage…but her courage came from her love of her people.

Bella turned to the hobbit next to her and took her hand. The young hobbit looked at the queen in wonder and took the hand of the hobbit next to her. Soon, all of the hobbits were linked as they formed their own unbreakable wave of courage and love to battle the evil before them.

Bella could just make out the horrible features of the first line of orcs before a rain of arrows flew from behind the hobbits. Bella watched as they soared, silent through the night sky. She marveled at the quiet for a moment before the sound of arrows cutting through armor and flesh destroyed the moment of peace. Bella braced before she broke her hold on the hobbits around her. She lifted Sting, glowing blue in the night, into the sky and yet out a battle cry that sent chills up the spines of her soldiers. She was their sign of courage and hope, had been for thirty years, but on this night, she seemed to glow with it.

A strange peace settled over the hobbits of the Shire as they charged their foe. They were going to die, but what better way to die for the people you love and the home you hold so dear? Yes they were going to die…but then again, there are some things worth dying for.

The battle waged and the hobbits fought with a vigor the orcs had never seen from these creatures before. Fear was no longer hindering them and they fought with a knowledge and skill that they had been too afraid to unleash before. The wariness the orcs began experiencing hindered their fighting, but their numbers made up for it.

Soon, the first hobbit fell, and many others did after, but they refused to get pushed past the bridge. The thought of the faunts cowering in the Great Hall listening to the sounds of battle outside kept the line strong. Then, a horn sounded.

It was a big, bellowing sound and Bella froze at the familiarity. The orc she had been fighting took her moment of distraction to slice at her stomach, She jumped back in surprise, but not before the gruesome sword grazed her. She did not feel it for the adrenaline, but she saw her blood on the orc's blade. She retaliated by chopping into his neck.

The orc fell with a strange noise and Bella used his falling body as leverage to jump further into the fray. _That horn,_ she thought, _that is the horn of Azog the Defiler._

Bella whipped her head and her sword in an effort to locate the Pale Orc, for he would easy to spot among this sea of black, but she could not find him.

Suddenly, a force that felt like a boulder slammed into her back. Bella hit the ground with an _oomph_ and the breath whooshed from her body. She turned just in time to see the Defiler stab the crude blade secured in the stump of his arm into her shoulder. Bella's breath came back suddenly and a scream ripped through her throat. The Pale Orc's laughed matched the volume of her scream.

He lifted his blade once more to make the fatal blow, but Bella regained her hold on Sting in time for her to block his blade. She grunted with effort and her wounded shoulder protested, but she did not give up. Azog smiled a terrible smile, as he knew she would soon be overcome. Just as his muscles flexed in order to push his sword into her abdomen, a sickening _thunk_ sounded above her. Suddenly, the pressure was gone and Bella looked up to see the Pale Orc crossing his eyes to look at the arrow protruding from his forehead.

Bella whipped her head around to see Hamson Gamgee standing there with a fierce expression and a freshly shot bow in his hands. Bella was suddenly reminded so much of his father that for a moment she thought she had gotten them confused. But, she soon realized that it was in fact Hamson and not Hamfast. She felt a rush of fondness for the boy and she made to call out to him as he smiled at her with relief, but she never got the chance.

A hulking mass stalked behind the lad before a large blade cut through the brave boy's stomach. His smile turned to shock as his eyes bulged and blood dribbled from his lips. Bella was hit with horror as the blade slowly lifted the much smaller hobbit body into the air and she saw Azog's spawn, Bolg, standing at its other end. His face was filled with rage as he threw the eldest Gamgee boy's body to the ground behind him. Bella watched his body fall lifeless to the ground.

She was filled with rage. A snarl, more animal than human, ripped through her teeth and she began hacking at any orcs who stood in her way with strength that could only come from adrenaline and anger.

Bolg turned to see the young Halfing queen fighting her way towards him and he smirked. Bella saw his expression and snarled again, beheading the orc knelt in pain before her. Bolg simply waved lightly, replaying his acts from that day on the shores of the Brandywine river. He whistled and a large warg tore through the battle. Bolg jumped on its back and ran from the fight.

"NO!," Bella screamed at her lost chance for vengeance. "You coward! You will die! You will pay! I will find you!," she vowed amongst the death and carnage around her.

Bella then realized that the orcs were going to soon reach the Great Hall and she called for a retreat. The more soldiers they had at the hall, the better chance of the elderly and children escaping. The fighting continued well into the night before Gandalf showed up.

And now, instead of retreating, Bella was running back onto the battlefield with an angry wizard following behind. But she couldn't just leave him there. Not in this place and not with those creatures. Not that boy.

She found him underneath the bodies of orcs and hobbits alike. His eyes were still open, but the blood had dried on his mouth. Bella let out a cry as she stroked his face. The adrenaline still pumped through her veins and that was the only reason she was able to lift the lad at all. She settled him on her shoulders as she began making her way to the Great Hall. The orcs, still sluggish in their movements, did not catch her.

Bella and Gandalf just barely made it in time to get through the doors before the hobbits inside had no choice but to close them and begin the barricade. Soldiers and gentle hobbits alike stood in wait for their queen, but Bella did not notice them or the huffing wizard who was cursing every Took he knew the name of.

Bella only saw the young boy that she gone back for and lowered him to the ground. She heard a cry come up from the crowd and closed her eyes in despair. The orcs began attempting to break the doors.

"My boy," Bell Gamgee wailed. There was blood pouring from a gash on her head but she paid it no mind as she threw herself beside her son. Her shaking hands cradled his face. "Oh my baby boy. My lovely little boy, no!" Her cries were the only sound besides the beating of the door. The rest of the hobbits looked on in sorrow as a mother grieved for her lost child.

Bella felt her own sobs wracking her body as her friend despaired. This was her fault. This was all her fault. Her red eyes met Hamfast's and she began crying anew. He was frozen in shock as he stared at his wife rocking their eldest son's body. His face was pale and he was clutching his axe so hard his knuckles almost broke through skin. He looked lost, so very, very lost.

Gandalf swept gently over to the family, partly to comfort and partly to shield the younger Gamgee children from the scene as they had just made their way from the crowd at the sound of their mother's cries.

Gandalf closed the boy's eyes gently and said a prayer over his head. Bell clutched her boy fiercely and stroked his face. Bella was beyond the point of tears now for the boy who had saved her. It was not fair that she should live and he should die. Gandalf turned to her as the banging on the door stopped.

Bella turned her head in confusion as she heard an…eagle call?

"My Lady Bella, we must leave now. I have called on a few friends to buy us some time, but we must leave quickly. Elrond's sons wait for us in the wood north of the river. When we reach them we will be safe." Gandalf was urgent. Bella looked at him dumbly for a moment before nodding her head and shakily getting to her feet.

"Yes," she said, "we must leave." _And go where?_

 **Bella, this is not your fault. It's mine. I'm sorry Gamgee family *sobs at own cruelty***


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So that last chapter was emotionally taxing to write. Whew. I knew this story was going to have some angst, but even I had no clue how much there would be! I have some dark little plot bunnies jumping around up there. For once, going to Erebor will be a breath of fresh air. (:**

 _ **Kshrimp,**_ **I am so glad you liked this chapter. I reread Chapter 7 way more than I did the others because I was so unsure about it, but in the end I didn't change a thing. And I plan to keep the hobbits' attitude toward violence and things as canon as possible. They wouldn't be hobbits if they loved fighting for their lives like the dwarrows seem to! And Bella is just lovely, even when she is covered in orc blood. Also, this will have a major impact on her character development, but I promise to keep her true to canon as much as I can. I don't have choice but to follow my plot bunnies. These are Rhosgobel Rabbits. I'd like to see myself try to jump off their plot sled!(:**

 _ **LovesDragons,**_ **they need all the luck in the world. (;**

 _ **Knowing Grace,**_ **everyone needs BAMF fem!Bilbo in their life! She just makes everything better. Scratch that, any sort of Bilbo makes everything better. I am so glad you are enjoying the story and I hope you continue to do so!**

 **Also, on my Tumblr page, I posted some art that I did for pre-war Bella. I do art for my writing to help me with my characters, but I am in no way an artist! It is just to help me visualize and things and I posted it for anyone who was interested. My Tumblr name is** _ **Dagmaris.**_

 **Anyways, enjoy!**

 **Dagmaris**

Chapter 8

It had been two years since the night that Gandalf the Grey had changed the Line of Durin forever.

After the moment on the barracks, when Dis knew she could not keep the child she was to care for as she could keep her own sons, she realized that it did not matter. Even if Nili disapproved or her father or brothers, Dis would care for the orphan in her arms for as long as she was permitted.

 _Frodo._

His name was almost dwarven, but Dis knew he could never pass for a dwarf child. He was too small, too fragile, and Dis knew that soon, he would age too quickly to be a dwarfling. But Dis did not care.

Nili was shocked at these declarations at first, as she had told him her feelings on the matter, but soon came to grudgingly accept his wife's decision. He could see how much she loved the child already and Nili, having looked upon him at first with nothing but interest, could feel the stirrings of a father's love in his chest as well. He would accept the boy and raise him as his own until the time came when he no longer had a right to.

Fili and Kili, after their initial curiosity, were surprisingly difficult to convince, despite their parents encouragements. As brothers, they were very close and that made them reluctant to accept a new _nadad._ But it did not take long for the boys to consider the small Halfling child as a brother. He was quiet and sweet, but the boys soon realized that he, too, had an inclination towards mischief like they did. The three boys were inseparable after that.

Thorin, surprisingly, also accepted his new nephew with open arms. Dis had thought after that night with the wizard and the king that he would be as reluctant as anyone, but that was not so. In fact, Thorin was the only one that Frodo called by a family title. _'Unca T'orin,_ the boy would say in excitement every time the dwarf prince visited their chambers. Dis and Nili had tried to tamp down the jealousy that their adopted son had yet to use such titles with them. It would take a few years until he would.

The main problem with Frodo in the Mountain was Thrain. He still wholeheartedly disapproved on his daughter's adoption of the Halfling child and that did not change as his children and grandchildren came to love the boy. There were still too many questions surrounding the boy that Thrain had not had answered. That blasted wizard had left too soon to give Thrain answers. _Why are the orcs targeting his homeland? Why would orcs follow after him, as Gandalf had implied? Why was he brought to Erebor of all places? Why?_

Thrain hated uncertainty and speculation and that was all he could see when he looked to the boy. It swirled around him like a cloud. It took one visit to his daughter's chambers to change all of that, though.

Thrain tried his hardest to spend time with his family whenever he could. It was tradition that he would take one night off a week from delegations and have dinner with his family in the privacy of the Royal Dining Room. Thorin, Frerin, Dis, and her family would already be gathered there when he walked in and they would dine well into the night, regaling stories about their week and things they planned to do for the next. It was terribly domestic and it was Thrain's favorite night of the week.

So when Thrain had walked in on their designated night and seen a hobbit child sitting in between his grandsons, he had been displeased to say the least.

"Adad, before you say one word, I must implore you to reconsider your stance on my adopted son. He is not a threat, he is child for pity's sake. The whole kingdom will not crumble because of a child! Surely you must know that?," Dis said exasperated. And Thrain did understand that. His dislike truly stemmed from dwarvish possessiveness. He was possessive of the family he had worked so hard to get and protect. It unsettled him that this child could just situate himself into his family as though he belonged there. He foolishly wondered if his children could throw away family as quickly as they accepted it. Thrain had always felt somewhat distant from his family, being the king of a prospering kingdom could do that, and the arrival of this child had widened that gap

"Adad, please. Just give him a chance," Dis pleaded. Thrain looked to his daughter's large green eyes, the same color as his dear Lis's, and broke. Dis saw his decision and beamed. She got up from the table and embraced her father in a rare display of affection. Thrain returned the embrace fiercely.

"Thank you, Adad," Dis said as the king stroked her hair. The rest of the family looked on with pleasure. They were a tight knit family, and the resolve of this discord was a relief to all. Finally, father and daughter broke the embrace and sat at the table. Before Thrain was fully seated, he thought better of it and made his way to the hobbit child.

The child looked at him with the same blue eyes that Thrain had seen the night the wizard came, only this time he was not afraid, he was welcoming. Any resolve Thrain had left to dislike the boy dissolved.

"Hello, little Frodo," he said gently as looked to the boy. Frodo looked at the large dwarf king in curiosity before reaching out tugging at his massive beard in wonder. Thrain let out a chuckle before tapping his forehead ever so gently to the child's and making his way back to his seat. Dis and Nili looked absolutely radiant and Thorin was sharing a smile with Frerin. Fili and Kili actually cheered.

"Let's eat!," Thrain exclaimed with a newfound contentment and the Line of Durin would never question the hobbit's place in their family from that point forward.

Now, two years later, the family could not imagine their life without Frodo in it. The Durin boys would not be the terrible trio, but instead the terrible two (and honestly, that sounded much less intimidating). Dis would not have to make vegetables to go with their meat because Frodo was rather partial to the things, and Dis did not like that thought one bit. She also would have never discovered her apparent like for carrots had it not been Frodo's insistent prodding of her mouth with a fork full of the things. Nili would never had learned how to give a three man piggy back ride, and really, it was an impressive talent to have. Thorin would never go outside as much as he did with his smallest nephew, who absolutely loved the outdoors, and would have never noticed that there was land on the far side of the Mountain that had potential to be farmed. They could spend less money on imported goods. The only thing that changed for Frerin was that he had a new place in his heart for the Halfling and that he had a third person to blame for when he was caught in one of his schemes. Thrain had a new life to protect and love, and that was quite alright with him.

Yes, everything was wonderful before, but Frodo made it all just the slightest bit better. That was why, the king and his family decided to throw the boy a birthday party once a year. They did the same for Fili and Kili, but since they didn't know the actual date of Frodo's birth, they just celebrated it on the day he came to Erebor.

The first year Frodo had been with them, Dis had been looking over her shoulder constantly as though a Halfling queen would materialize and demand her heir back. It worried Dis sick, and Nili had tried to appease her terror, but he too was worried. It wasn't until the first year was coming to an end and there had still been no word from the wizard did Dis stop worrying. Surely if the queen had survived and was making her way to Erebor, the wizard would find a way to notify them. Right?

It wasn't until the second year did Dis truly stop worrying. Hobbits were hardly ever mentioned in the Mountain, besides the occasional questioning from Frodo. And Dis always told him the truth. That he was a hobbit and he was adopted. That he may still have family out there, but Dis had no clue where to look for them. That he was no less loved even if he was adopted.

It was one of these conversations that had prompted one of Dis's favorite memories with Frodo.

"Frodo, I must ask you something," Dis had said as he played with his toys by the hearth. She had been having one of her doubtful times and had been thinking about where Frodo had come from a lot lately. Since the wizard was not here to answer her questions, she would just have to hope Frodo could, despite his age. "Do you remember your aunt, at all?"

Frodo stopped playing and looked up at Dis with old eyes. Usually the faunt was rather lighthearted and untroubled, but sometimes, Dis was harshly reminded that this child was here because of war and the loss of his parents. This was one of those times.

"Aunt Bella?," he asked and Dis sucked in a breath. He remembered. She nodded her affirmation.

"I remember a little. Not a whole bunch. She had pretty hair. And scars. She had scars on her face…but she was still pretty," Frodo said as looked off in memory. Dis's eyes welled with tears at the longing in his voice. Frodo never talked about wanting to go home and Dis mistook that with contentment for staying here…but perhaps she was wrong.

"Was Queen Bella nice?," she asked Frodo gently. The boy's wistful expression left and was replaced with a grin.

"Yes. She was very nice. She always gave me cookies and told me stories about Ma and Da…and she always let me sleep in the big bed with her because I was too afraid to be by myself. But, she did tend to call anyone who called her Queen Bella a twat," he said thoughtfully and Dis choked at his language. Just as she was about to reprimand the boy for the use of that word, he turned his hobbit eyes toward her curiously.

"What does twat mean, Mama?," he asked. Dis gasped. It was the first time he had called her that. Her tears finally spilled over as she scooped her son in her arms and cradled him close. They never spoke of the Halfling queen or the Shire after that and Dis quite forgot her worry. Her family was complete. What was there to worry about?

And now, as they celebrated the arrival of Frodo those two years ago, Dis couldn't be happier. Her family was full of cheer and her heart reflected their emotions.

Frerin was teaching Fili and Kili how to strategically throw bits of cake into their guests beards. This was the only day they could get away with it without a reprimand from Dis. Nili and Thorin were discussing trade and imports over tankards of ale and occasionally a great booming laugh would emanate from their part of the room. Dwarflings ran around in excitement, seeing as Frodo was quite popular. Fili and Kili had finally joined the fray and were currently trying to lift Frodo on both of their shoulders. Thrain interceded before Dis could and copied Nili's three man piggy back in swoop. Her children squealed with delight and Dis smiled.

 _It's perfect,_ she thought _, everything is perfect._ And for the moment, it was.

But Dis, Lady of Erebor, should not have jinxed this moment in such a way, for in a few months time, their lives would be changed once more…and perhaps not entirely for the better. And that change was coming in the form of a Halfling queen who had just lost her kingdom and would be dead and buried before she lost her nephew as well.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: The plot bunnies went quiet for a while there and I got worried. But they're back! And they came with Chapter 9.**

 **aliena wyvern: Glad to see a new member on BAMF fem!Bilbo bandwagon! Hope you enjoy my take on this character and the changes I have made.**

 **Knowing Grace: Even a gruff and stubborn dwarf king can't resist hobbit baby feels! And Thorin and Bella will be very interesting…I hope(:**

 **Loves Dragons: The fact that Frodo is accepted and yet he still remembers Bella is going to be a major plot point in this story. I'm glad you are perceptive enough to pick up on both (;**

 **Akiluna: I wrote about half of Chapter 8 before I had to completely scrap the whole thing. It had a bit of shenanigans in there that I intend to use for later chapters (and I am really excited to write it), but I just couldn't use it for Chapter 8. For some reason it didn't fit. Oh well! And I plan to address all plot holes. They're a pet peeve of mine and I couldn't write a story where the Shire is attacked for absolutely no reason. It just wouldn't make sense. If this story goes where I think it's going (and again I don't know for sure), there is a major reason why the Shire was attacked, and I can promise you that I won't forget it(:**

 **Glad you're enjoying** _ **alexia**_

 **Dagmaris**

Chapter 9

"My Lady?"

"…"

"Queen Bella?"

"Why won't she answer?"

"I don't know, now shush! My Lady Bella? Are you alright?", the voices persisted, but Bella did not notice. Or she did not care enough to notice.

"My Queen, could you please open the door?," the voice pleaded. Bella twitched at the title, but still did not move towards the door. The knocking started.

"Maybe she's not in there," the second voice said, but was again shushed. Bella was glad. She didn't like the nasally tone of the second voice.

"Of course she's in there, Lobelia. Where else could she be? Now be quiet!," the first voice hissed. The second voice, Lobelia, _harumph_ ed. Bella tensed for the knocking to start again, but it did not. Instead a new voice sounded. Dread settled in Bella's stomach as she stared at the chair by the hearth with blank, tear-filled eyes.

"Move aside Otho, my lad. I can take care of this," Hamfast Gamgee said from the other side of the door. His voice sounded tired and defeated and Bella's heart cracked a bit more from guilt. He should be with his family, not trying to coerce a failure of a queen from the confines of her elvish room…but he was. And Bella hated him just a little bit for it.

"Aye Hamfast. I…I'm sorry about your boy. He was a good lad. Saved a lot of hobbits," Otho said a tad warily, as if he wasn't sure how his sentiments would be received. Bella held her breath, for she wasn't sure either. There was silence before the unmistakable sound of the Gaffer's paw of hand clapped Otho's shoulder. Bella couldn't see them, but she can imagine the young hobbit slumped with relief.

"I thank you, Otho. Go to your wife. She looked rather cross as she stormed out of here. I can only imagine what you did to cause that storm cloud," Hamfast said with as much amusement as he could muster. It wasn't much, but Otho ignored it and let out a small chuckle. Bella didn't hear him scamper off, but she did hear Hamfast slump against the floor with a sigh. She shut her eyes.

"Bella…," Hamfast started and Bella could just picture him fiddling with his fingers, cleaning dirt from underneath the nails. She shuddered.

"I know why you're in there. And I also know why you won't speak to anyone," he said softly, but Bella could hear. She was listening.

"I don't blame you. Even though you blame yourself, _I_ don't. And neither does Bell, or the children, or…no one blames you. Hams…he was young, but he was old enough to fight and to make his own decisions. You ordered him to stay in the Hall, I know you did, but he didn't. And that was _his choice_. You didn't lead him or ask him to come out there with you, he just did. And he saved you because he knew that he needed to. If he hadn't, there would be no hobbits left. He knew that we needed our queen…I know that we need our queen. And I have come to apologize for my words in the woods. They were spoken in anger and grief and were entirely untrue. You need to know that Bella. Please," Hamfast pleaded in desparation, but Bella did not listen. She was lost in the memory of that night and had been since Hamfast had mentioned Hamson.

The eagles of Manwe had distracted the orcs long enough for Bella and Gandalf to lead the remaining hobbits from the Great Hall. A passage had been dug in the hall nearly 20 years prior, at the peak of the war when a situation such as the one they were in had been imminent. The passage led from the Hall to an area of the forest that the hobbits still had control of. It wasn't that far, but it would lead them from the immediate danger if only for a few moments.

"Gandalf, how far until we reach the elves? We cannot make it far," she said urgently as she helped hobbits from the passage opening. Gandalf lit the way with his staff as he looked off in the distance.

"Not far. I should hope they will try to meet us halfway, but if not, it's still not far," he said to the bedraggled queen. He noticed she was favoring her shoulder and made to help her, but she glared him into backing away and continued to provide a guiding light to the hobbits who had already made their way out. Gandalf looked at their faces and saw grief and despair. The blue light cast shadows on each of their faces, making them look gaunt in their sadness. Looking at them, Gandalf saw a candle who's flame had burned out, the only evidence that it ever burned was the wisp of smoke flowing from its loss of heat. Gandalf felt his own grief well in his chest.

"Gandalf which way?," Bella asked as she hauled the last hobbit from the hole and made her way to wizard. She faltered as she saw the Gamgees holding the body of their son. They couldn't leave him to the orcs, so they would carry him until they could bury him.

"North, of course," Gandalf said despite his grief. Bella simply nodded.

"Lead the way, my friend," she said as she helped a young hobbit with an injured ankle keep up with the rest of them.

It didn't take long before they spotted the elves. Tall and pale, they stood out amongst the dark forest with their grace and bearing. Somehow, amongst all of her dark feelings, Bella mustered up awe. These were the elves of the stories her childhood, of sitting by the fire with her parents as she listened in wonder. A pang of longing felt like another sword through her belly as she wished for those times once more.

"Elladan and Elrohir, you are quite a sight for troubled eyes. I thank you and your father for sending aid in our time of need," Gandalf said as two elves made their way forward from the front. They both had long, pin straight dark hair and kind faces twisted in sympathy for the poor creatures in front of them.

"Of course, Mithrandir. Anything for an elf-friend," one said. They looked exactly alike, so Bella couldn't say which one it was.

"I trust you have found a safe place to camp for the night," Gandalf said, though the question was implied, "I'm afraid we cannot make the journey to Rivendell tonight."

"Of course, Gandalf. We need not travel far, it is just over the hill. The orcs are not following you, we have checked, and scouts will be posted for the night. You are safe now."

Many hobbits' shoulders slumped in visible relief. Safe had not been a word used in many years and Bella felt her own relief lessen the weight on her heart, but as she looked at the struggles of her people, Bella felt guilt take worry's place.

"Lead us then, Elrohir. I have done my time as a guide tonight," Gandalf said and the elf on the left inclined his head in acknowledgement before whistling. Elves walked from between the trees with grace and discipline as they surrounded the battle weary hobbits. Bella, who's exhaustion and pain was finally catching up with her, could not muster the strength to be startled. The injured hobbit on her shoulder and those surrounding her seem to be in the same state.

They began walking, faster than before with the help of the elves, and Bella had never been so happy to see a clearing in all of her life. It was small, but big enough to make a small camp for night. It was secluded, too, and it was likely that it could not be found unless someone knew where to look. It seemed safe.

Hobbits all around her began finding their places, some soldiers practically collapsing from exhaustion. Bella wished to do the same, but there was something she had to do.

Bella walked slowly over to the Gamgees. Other hobbits had taken the younger children so they did not have to see the horror of their slain brother. It did not make approaching Bell and Hamfast any easier, though.

"Hamfast…I know not what to say to you only that I am sorry. I am so very, _very_ sorry. I know that words are a hollow comfort now, but I needed to say it. I needed you to know that I feel this grief as keenly as if he were my own child and-" Bella cut off as Hamfast suddenly stood to his feet and met Bella's sorrowful gaze with rage. She probably shoud have taken a step back from such a murderous glare, but shock made her stay in her place.

" _You_ of all people have absolutely no right to say such things," he growled out slowly. Bell looked from her place by her pale son with fear and confusion. Bella reflected her emotions.

" _You_ who sent away her own charge when things began looking for the worse. You thought of only yourself! What about my children? Did they not deserved the same privilege? To leave the Shire behind and start life anew? But no! No, you only thought of Frodo and your own guilt. He lives and my children die, is that your trade? Is that the sacrifices you are willing to make? Is that how you rule, _Queen?_ ," he was mocking now, anger flooding the air between them. Bella could have choked on it. "You would let a child die protecting you and your precious Shire? We could have left ages ago, but you would not relent! You would not give up, and I followed, blindly and foolishly. Now look where I am. I am preparing to bury my first born while your heir is somewhere far from this sorrow and you live."

Hamfast spat his last words viciously as he sat back down on the ground. Bella stood in shock and sadness. She was broken out of it as Gandalf made his way to say something. She halted the wizard with a flick of her wrist and turned her way from what were once her closest friends.

Bella could not find it in herself to be angry or confused because, despite her intentions, Hamfast was right. She had not thought of sending anymore children when she sent Frodo away, nor had she thought of using the passage before this night. She had only thought of herself and what she desired to protect; her Frodo and her Shire. Bella sat with a thump on the ground as all of the mistakes she had made as queen rushed through her brain in a torrent of self loathing and pain. Looking at the dirty faced hobbits around her, she realized that she had failed. They had chosen her as queen and she had failed.

Bella spoke to no one after that, even when they reached Rivendell two days later. Elrond, in a strange ever knowing way, did not comment on the hobbit ruler's lack of words and instead spoke to Gandalf about arrangements and supplies.

Bella was gifted with her own room, which she almost broke her silence to protest against, but then thought better of it. It was probably a gift to the other hobbits that they should not have to share with the woman who caused them such sorrow.

For our days, Bella sat and stared. She ate little and talked even less, and it was on the fourth day that Lobelia and Otho had been charged with coaxing the queen from her chambers and grief. It was Hamfast who would get her out.

"Bella," he asked from the other side of the door. She broke from her reverie and before she could stop herself, she was crossing the room and opening the door. Hamfast was slumped against the opposite wall, but jerked upright when he heard the opening of the door.

He looked as tired as he had sounded and Bella knew that she could possibly look worse.

"Bella, you did everything right. Sending Frodo away, defending the Shire, all of it, it was _right._ We still do not know why the orcs wanted our home so badly, and that is hard. It is hard to have so much grief and anger and not know what to blame. What catalyst caused such misery. There were too many why's, but they are not your fault. I have never thought they were your fault and I don't know why I said the things I did. I was angry and you were there," Hamfast said urgently. He was standing now, cautiously, as if Bella would be startled by the slightest noise back into hiding. But she wasn't.

Bella was done hiding. She had been wallowing in her own self loathing and in doing that had been truly selfish. She had left her people in their time of need and had no excuse for it. She swallowed back her tears at seeing Hamfast before her and hardened her resolve. Her rule was not over just yet.

"Hamfast, you have no need to apologize. It is I who must apologize, for you were right. Everything you said was right. I have been selfish, and more so in these last few days than in the last three decades. But that is no longer. I am a queen and queens have no time for grief and self loathing," she said as she stepped from her door for the first time in many days. Hope and wonder flashed in Hamfast's eyes as he gave her as much of a smile as a grieving father could muster. This was the queen he had fought so hard for. This was the queen his son had died for. Hamfast felt the same pride he had felt when he looked upon Bella in the first battle for the Shire, standing victorious over the foe as he thought, _'There is one I could follow. There is one I could call Queen.'_

With Hamfast at her side and spirit stirring in her heart, Bella made her way to the Dining Hall. She could hear the sound of hobbits eating, and Bella listened to the sounds as if she had just been pulled from water and was gasping in much needed air. She had not fought for the Shire. She had fought for this sound, the sound of her people in good cheer once more, and Bella walked towards it as though it were the light leading her home.

She opened the doors of the Hall and the chatter ceased. Hobbits and elves alike stared at the Halfling queen in wonder. She seemed to glow with power and knowledge as she walked with grace to the head of the table. With her head held high, she looked as much a queen as she did on the battlefield. The hobbits swelled with pride at such a show of power from someone of their kind.

Bella bowed slightly to her people, but did not stop her purposeful stride towards Gandalf and Elrond at the head of the table. Gandalf had that twinkle in his eye and Elrond looked relieved to see that Belladonna Took's child was living up to his expectation. He had begun to doubt.

"Ah, My Lady, how wonderful it is to see you once more. I had begun to worry, but I should have known better. You were never one to sit idly by while you took a personal day…or days," Gandalf said pleased as he glanced at Elrond as if to say, ' _I told you.'_

Bella ignored the look and smiled slightly at them both before she spoke.

"Yes, I will admit that I have been out of sorts as of late, but I am better now. Lord Elrond, words cannot thank you enough for your hospitality. You fed us, clothed us, and healed us in our time of need. My shoulder feels as if it were new," she joked lightly. Elrond's lips twitched as he inclined his head in welcome. "Hobbits are forever in your debt."

"And you as well, Gandalf," she said as she turned towards the wizard, "I had begun to give up hope of you ever returning, but I should have known better. You have not failed me yet."

She punctuated her words with a squeeze to her oldest friend's gnarled hand. He smiled at her knowingly.

"Which is why I am reluctant to ask of you one more thing," she said steadily. Gandalf quirked his eyebrow as if he didn't already know what she was going to ask.

"Where exactly did you say my nephew was again?"


End file.
